


Paint It Red

by Fulcrumisthebomb



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Genre: Blood Play, Bondage, I'm a sick puppy, M/M, Turtlecest, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:24:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulcrumisthebomb/pseuds/Fulcrumisthebomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raphael is surprised when Donatello acts on their growing feelings for each other... in terrifying ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my wonderful friend Jee, who encouraged me to write far, far outside my comfort zone and explore my insane interpretation of my Donnie. <3

I'm not _stupid;_ but it wasn't until Donnie's scalpel sank into my bloodied shoulder that the oddities of our childhood snapped into place with a sickening certainty.

I resisted sagging into the chains, trying to give my mind long enough to sort these new revelations so I could try to figure out how to get out of Donnie's trap.  I couldn't move, couldn't blink; not yet.  He was waiting for my answer, and I had to figure this out first.

~*~*~*~*~

Donnie chose the bo staff as his weapon when we were young, too young to wield the adult versions.  Gods, I had teased him, and I regretted that now.  Bladed weapons, like my beloved sais, were for _real_ Turtles, I'd sneered with childish arrogance.

But Donnie hadn't whined, or cried, or even frowned.  He'd stared back with unsettling eyes and simply nodded.  I had mistaken that as a victory and immediately turned to bitch at Leo about something.

I forgot that haunted look until he directed it at me tonight while he snapped the chains in place.

~*~*~*~*~

The laboratory slowly lost the traces of childhood.  Gone were the rusted toy cars, small wrenches for chubby hands, crudely drawn diagrams in crayon.  They were replaced by longer, sharper tools, guts of miscellaneous machines, Donnie's first laptop, and shortly after, our first home server computer.  Thicker books lined the walls, covering our painted handprints and Mikey's inane scrawling.  

What I found most puzzling was the inclusion of locks.  I knew humans used locks to hide things; why did Donnie need them on his drawers and cabinets?  He was good at rebuilding the tossed ones he salvaged; I knew that all too well, too late, as the clamps around my legs dug into my muscles with bruising force.

~*~*~*~*~

Once we started fighting topside, Donnie began lingering behind if the cops weren't hot on our tails.  His reasons were always mumbled to Leo; I frequently hear words such as 'samples', 'safe', and 'data'.  Whatever Donnie gathered was hidden away in stolen shirts and backpacks; I finally understood- but not _really_ \- why Donnie had locks peppered around the lab.

His equipment matured further; beakers and test tubes, Petri dishes and warming trays for biological research.  I assumed whatever he brought home fueled this new obsession, and promptly dismissed it  until I saw the hundreds of tiny vials of blood as he grabbed an empty chilled tube from the fridge.

~*~*~*~*~

And then what cinched it- though I didn't connect it with Don's weird habits at the time- was his growing infatuation with me.  Donnie had always been more quiet, less likely to start conversations, though he damn well knew how to finish them.  He laughed at our antics and jokes, too, but rarely told any of his own until he was older.  He didn't initiate hugs or cuddling as children, although he began asking for mine; going so far as to climbing into my bed in the middle of the night for random reasons I was too sleepy to check against logic.  

We've grown close over the last few years, even; working together does that for you, I guess.  He still wants to be held when there's nightmares, or sit next to me, or tend to small wounds that don't matter. But recently, his touches have started giving me shivers; it's his eyes.  They gleam too brightly for a mere hug or friendly punch in the arm.

Still, I shrugged this all away as _it's just Donnie-_ Donnie, who grew up thinking differently than any of us.

I'm clever enough to piece together puzzles, even if it might take longer to think about them.  Why hadn't I seen the signs?  Because when Donnie asked me to stay up the night and 'help' him, I was completely surprised when the first chain locked around my wrist.  I tried to yell as the second caught my other arm, but his hand pressed against my mouth hard enough to slam my head back against the wall.

"No."

That single syllable made me shudder just like his recent looks and touches.  His hand was still viciously digging into my lips, so I widened my eyes in question.

"I have waited-," Donnie paused, tilting his head as if considering, " _-We_ have waited long enough for this."

I muffled words through his fingers, trying to ask _what, why._

"I know you've noticed my advances," Donnie replied silkily.  I jerked as his other hand slid down my side, then gasped into his hold as his fingers gripped the top of my thigh.  "Don't tell me you haven't.  I've felt it.  I've seen you shiver and shake under my ministrations."

I shook my head as much as I was allowed.  I tested the slack in the foreign chains, a knot of dread curling in my stomach. This wasn't normal. Donnie loved to tease, but this was going entirely too far.  It was too serious.

"Yes," he hissed.  A rare fury twisted his soft features, and I stared.  This wasn't Donnie; not my soft, sarcastic Donnie that curled on my legs to nap.  If I didn't know better, I'd think he was possessed.

"Yes," he said again, more softly, though his eyes still glinted unhealthily.  "I'm sorry it's taken so long to prepare for this moment.  It has to be perfect; you deserve nothing else, of course."

His hand left my mouth suddenly as he dropped to his knees, and I gasped for breath, too disoriented to look down just yet.  Seconds later I had no choice, though, as I felt icy cold bands snap around my thighs.

"D-Donnie, what the hell are ya doin'?" I asked stupidly.

"Keeping you safe," Donnie replied merrily.  I yelped as the steel kept retracting against my skin, becoming uncomfortable, then painful before it stopped.

I didn't want to be angry, but being held down could light my fuse as fast as Leo's ugly mug.  "What the _fuck_ have ya done?" I snarled, twisting and straining against the chains.

"The body has predetermined reactions to certain emotions and stimuli," Donnie continued as he straightened and stepped back, hungry eyes raking over my body before nodding once.  "This will keep you from hurting yourself while I paint you your true colour."

Stimuli? Paint? Colour?  "What're ya talkin' about?" I asked, mentally kicking myself for letting my nervousness come through my voice.

"Your skin," he breathed, closing the distance between us again and nuzzling my chest.  I tried and failed to twitch away.  "It's beautiful, but I can make it moreso."

"Donnie, ya ain't makin' sense," I snapped.  "You been sniffing glue with Mikey again?"

I had time to see the light in his eyes dull and die before he turned away.  "Fine. A demonstration is always better, anyways."  He twiddled with the lock on the minifridge behind him, then pull the small door open, revealing row upon row of dark test tubes.

When I realized they were filled with congealed blood, I gagged on my exclamation.

"Yours will be the prize of my collection," he said happily as he held up a clean tube.

I still couldn't speak until I saw the flash of metal between his fingers.

"Donnie- No- What the _hell_ are ya thinkin'?  Lemme outta this!  Yer sick, or- or feverish or somethin', we'll get Leo an-,"

" _No,_ " Donnie said again, his mouth digging into a frown.  "This is just for us.  No one else.  No one but you and I, Raphie."

The tendril of fear flew into a full-blown panic as he stepped closer, brandishing the scalpel.  I put true effort into freeing myself now, but once again it was too late- I had been doomed the moment the first steel band locked around my wrist.  The cruel chains clanked and sang as I struggled, mocking my attempts.

"You've heard of painting the town red?" he said slyly, hooking his empty hand under my chin and pressing against my throat.  I choked, unsure if I even needed to reply.  "It will be infinitely more satisfying to paint my Raphie red."

"Fuck- Donnie- Don't you fuckin' _dare_ touch me with that shit-,"

"Raphie."

I glared down at him, trying to focus my anger so I wouldn't expose my terror.

"Do you trust me?"

 _How_ could he ask me that, with those crazed eyes and hopeful smile and _SHIT-_

He muffled my scream as the scalpel bit into my shoulder, slicking my skin with blood immediately.  Hell, he kept those things sharp.

I snarled through his fingers, snapping and biting, but his eyes only crinkled in a devious smile.

"Of course you can have mine as well.  Mix it in with yours."  I watched in horror as he rubbed his bleeding finger into my wound.  "Don't worry so much, Raphie.  I've done numerous tests and prepared for this moment for months.  Nearly a year, in fact.  You are safe."

" _Safe?!_ " I yelled.  "Ya think this is safe?!  Ya think I _want_ this?!"

"Ouch, Raphie," Donnie said mildly.  "Stop worrying, it's clouding your judgment."

"I know this is _wrong!_ " I bellowed.  His finger delved into my sliced skin and I choked and gagged at the feeling.  The slickness, the pain, the scrape of his skin _inside_ mine made my stomach lurch.

"Raphie?"

I snapped my eyes up to his again, thankful for the distraction, however small it was.

"Do you trust me?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael is surprised when Donatello acts on their growing feelings for each other... in terrifying ways.

I _wanted_ to say yes.  

Even after chaining me to the wall, most likely keeping me in here in secret, hurting me deeper than a mere wound in my shoulder, I _still_ wanted to say yes.

He's always been the fragile one to me.  I mean sure, Mikey's got his own 'baby brother' issues, and Leo crumbles under Master's stare.  Hell, I got my own limits, one of which I'm finding out the hard way right now.  But Donnie's always seemed breakable; like Leo, he wants acceptance too much.  I'd worried at times that one nudge in the wrong direction could send him off the deep end, retreating so far into his research and intellectual crap that he wouldn't come back.  

Guess something _did_ push him off a cliff, and fuck me for not seeing it sooner.  Some brother I am.

But even so, I did _not_ want this.  I didn't want our trust tried like this.  This kind of stuff was for psychopaths, kidnappers, our enemies; not my own _brother._

So how the hell could I answer?  He was still waiting; if his eyes hadn't been flashing with this strange disease, he would look like the patient- if slightly annoyed- brother I knew.  I decided to use one of his own tactics against him.  Answer a question with a question.

"How'm I supposed to trust ya?" I growled. I rattled the chains for emphasis, hating the reminder of being imprisoned.  "Ya got me chained up, Donnie.  Yer _hurting_ me.  I dun want this but ya ain't listenin'.  Brothers don't do this to each other!"

His hesitation was barely the fraction of a second, and my heart leapt painfully with hope.  Donnie loved his logic; surely the real Donnie was somewhere in there.

"I already told you," he said, the annoyance on his face growing, "the chains are for your benefit.  Our bodies have been trained to react to certain situations in a predictable manner.  I am saving you the trouble of restraining yourself."

Another lance of fear made me shudder.  His expression was steady.  He _believed_ what he was saying.  "Like me punchin' ya in the-,"

"You have sustained more substantial cuts from wrestling with Mikey," he continued, snorting.  "I have only opened the top layer of your skin; I am very careful, Raphie, you know that.  I didn't get anywhere near the dermis layer of your skin, which would be much more painful.  It's just enough to..."  He fingered the flap of severed skin on my shoulder, more blood teased from the wound and oozing down his hand in several thin lines.  My shoulder was coated now.

I swallowed back another gag as I turned from the sight.  "Donnie, stop, _stop,_ " I pleaded.  Instead, his bloodied finger slid under my skin like a hot brand, and my stomach squeezed sickeningly.

"And like your body, your mind has been pre-programmed," he murmured, his smile impossibly gentle as he leaned in.  "But most of all...  Because I love you."

I blinked, daring to look back at him, tilting my head so I couldn't see my shoulder.  Of all the ways I thought I might hear those words- if I ever did- I never _never-_

I'd known for years Donnie preferred my company above anyone else's, and I admit I'd thought of him in some shameful ways over the last few years. Master Splinter had even noticed his attachment to me, and we'd both gotten a _very_ embarrassing lecture.  Donnie hadn't seemed perturbed by it; so as far as I knew, Donnie's love was platonic, normal.   _Mine_ was the sinful one; one I'd kept deeply buried under layers of comforting anger and rarely let myself think about.

Had he done the same?  Was _that_ why he'd dived off the crazy board into the pool of insanity?

My head started swimming at that point.  I'm not good at thinking on the fly; not about important stuff, anyway.  And not without my weapons in my hands.

I felt something warm on my throat, and I snapped out of my thoughts.  Seconds later, I shuddered as I realized he was _kissing_ me.

No.   _Not like this._

"D-Don-,"

"Shhh."  His whisper was a sharp contrast to the hard bands around my limbs and the painful stabbing in my shoulder. "I'm going to make you beautiful.  Let me worship you as you should be, Raphie."

As much as I loved Donnie, fuck if I was gonna give him _permission_ for this shit!  I set a snarl on my face that would've felled lesser men. Or Mikey.

" _Fuck_ no!  Lemme outta this _now,_ " I hissed, snapping my undamaged shoulder forward.  It bashed into his nose, knocking him away from me momentarily with a stunned look.  "I dunno what's gotten into yer head, Donnie, but fuck if I'm just gonna roll over and let ya _torture_ me!"

"Torture?"  He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully as he considered me, much like how he looked at his projects or computer at times.

I spat a few more curses at him, straining at the chains.  I paused when I saw a fresh wave of blood washed down my shoulder and began sliding in small rivulets down my chest.  I watched it, horrified, until his hands around my head jerked me back to reality.  I snapped my teeth at his hands again, but he was too fast- and suddenly I was gagging on my sweaty mask he'd pulled down.  I settled for biting at it instead, trying to chew through it; my eyes widened as he untangled his own and tied it around my head, tugging a vicious knot in the back.  The cloth pressed into the corners of my mouth, chafing at the skin.

Then he looked up at me and giggled.  Actually _giggled._   A soft one, not like Mikey's when he's insanely proud of himself, but it set my nerves on edge.

"Why, Raphie, of all the fantasies I wondered you had, a rape fantasy is not one I would've guessed."

I froze.

He stared back at me happily.

The panic rushed back tenfold, my brain shutting out all other thoughts except of escape and refusal as I yelled my denial.

His smile widened as he raised the scalpel again.

"Don't worry, Raphie.  I'll make sure you enjoy it, too."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael is surprised when Donatello acts on their growing feelings for each other... in terrifying ways.

He wasn't.  He _couldn't._   Donnie's my _brother,_ for chrissake's.  My small, clingy brother I protected on a daily basis.  He wasn't a psychopath.  We're the good guys.

Or at least, he _should_ be.  What had done this to him?  What had I done to make him think I wanted this?!

Was it somehow my fault?  Had I driven him to this by denying my own feelings?

I was too horrified by my newfound guilt to respond much as the metal flash crossed my eyes.  My mouth went even more dry as I felt his hand grip my forearm.  Oh god.  Again?

The scalpel silently slid into the skin, and I had to mentally scream at myself to not move.  However insane Donnie was, I still trusted he knew what he was doing.  I'd probably make it much worse if I moved.  I couldn't watch, though; I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on breathing noisily past the cloth dampening against my tongue.  I didn't open them even when I felt his plastron pressing against mine, sliding wetly.

"So beautiful," he murmured, nuzzling under my chin.

I took the opportunity to lean my head back then snap it down, smashing the edge of my jaw into his eye.  He grunted and stumbled backwards, his hand leaving a bloody smear on his face as he clutched it.  Unfortunately, he just looked up at me with a strange grin.

"Good. I _do_ want you to enjoy yourself," he reminded me with a quiet laugh.  He set the scalpel down nearby before inching closer to my arm.  Now that the blade was a relatively safe distance away, I dared to flinch from his prying fingers, but flexing my arm had the same effect as it had on my shoulder.  More streams of blood pulsed forward, and I let my arm go limp in horror.

"It isn't nearly as much as you think," he whispered, and I snarled.  I swear, sometimes he can read minds; or maybe I'm just too easy to read.  "There's plenty of veins to exploit close to the surface without any harm. But it gives me so much to work with."

My throat closed as he skimmed his hands over my arm, completely coating them, much like we had with fingerpaints as children.  My stomach was even less happy when he then smoothed them over my chest, leaving long red streaks.  I swallowed dryly, willing myself to calm and failing miserably.  I really didn't want to puke with this gag in my mouth- the entire idea just sounded disgusting.  Although, no less than what was happening to my unwilling body.

My insides lurched again as his fingers trailed down my sides, returning occasionally to roll them in my blood.  I thought briefly about warning him; at this point, I didn't care about getting bile all over _him;_ I didn't want it backlogging in my throat and nose.  I tried to speak, my desperate words muffled.

"Deep breaths," Donnie replied, and again I wondered if he'd mastered mindreading also without telling me.  "Halfway done, Raphie.  You're going to be stunning."

Maybe his idea had merit, if my whimpers weren't going to deter him.  My nose rattled with the sharp intake, and I nearly choked on the smell of blood.  The scent was cloying, sticking to the back of my throat, the taste settling on my tongue.  I gagged again, closer to retching than earlier.  It couldn't help if the smell was everywhere, too.

Then his fingers tugged on my tail, and the nausea was forgotten as forbidden pleasure spiked through my back.  Suddenly my standards slipped even lower; I couldn't get free, I was at his mercy, but damned if I was going to take his advice and _enjoy_ it.

Unfortunately I wasn't able to hide my reaction; my hips jerked slightly, my tail wagged.  His happy grin made me freeze again with dread.

"Saving the best for last," he purred.  "I thought you'd approve."

My vehement " _No!_ " was muffled, but I'm pretty sure he understood.  It made him chuckle.  I sucked in a harsh breath, closing my eyes, but that only heightened the feel of his fingers dancing over my thighs, crawling closer to the edges of my plastron, then gliding across it, then-

I mumbled another curse as his hands ghosted over my slit.  He wasn't _really_ going to do that, was he?  I was vaguely aware I was slipping into denial at this point, but I honestly didn't care.  I hated feeling so helpless, that I couldn't stop him, talk him out of this.  I was going to beat the living shit out of him when I was free.

Maybe.  He was still Donnie.  Maybe I'd lock _him_ up all night.

I shivered again, growling desperately as his bloodied fingers slipped under the softer part of my carapace, stroking my dick.  I swear I felt it retract even further inside me before he began trying to coax it out, slowly and tenderly, with those disgustingly wet hands.  I had blood smeared _inside_ me now.  In places it never, _ever_ should be.

That thought did it.  I tasted bile, felt my stomach lurching.  I must've made some noise to that effect, too, because suddenly Donnie's face was in mine, and something cool and damp pressed lightly to my throat.  The chill calmed my reflex immediately, and I blinked gratefully back at his warm chocolate eyes.

"Shhh," he whispered, shifting the rag so it refreshed the chill slightly.  "Remember what I said.  Deep, slow breaths.  Don't fight, Raphie.  I know you want to, but can't you put that aside for now?  There's plenty of time to explore that later.  Next time, perhaps."

I'd been nearly lulled into relief- if I could ignore the bloody trails drying on his face- but I started at his words again.  Next time?   _Oh god no-_

"This is special," he continued, pulling the stained rag away and twirling it to cool it down again.  He put it to my throat again, and I was too needy for the comfort to withdraw from it.  I really, really didn't want to throw up.  "I doubt we'll get the chance to do quite _this_ again.  Or at least for some time. Just try to remember your impulses are simply taught; they aren't your own."

" _But they are!_ " I tried to plead, my muffled words weak and unimpressive to my own ears.  I groaned in frustration as he undid his mask from my mouth, using it to tie the rag loosely to my throat instead.

"Donneth," I slurred urgently.  "Donth.  Peuthh."

"It will help the nausea," he replied with a concerned, stern look.  I narrowed my eyes, glaring at him.  He loved to misinterpret statements too much.

" _Noa!_ "  I bucked against the chains as he began sliding down my bloodcaked body.  "I donth wanth thith!"

"You do," he replied happily, nuzzling his nose against my thigh, streaking his face with red.  "You just don't know how to ask, and my hints weren't working.  You want this, Raphie. I've seen how you look at me, touch me.  And how you touch yourself, late at night when you think everyone's asleep.  You, in fact," he added lightly, "are a tease, Raphie.  I should draw this out much longer tonight, you know.  In revenge for you doing the same to me."

"I neva trith to-,"

"But I can't," he whispered, his voice hushed and awed, and _oh god he was staring at my crotch._   And he looked _hungry._   "Let go, Raphie.  Let me show you how I feel."

My hands banged against the chains, my legs straining against the steel bands.  Helpless.  Hopeless.  I wasn't going to give up and give in, though.  I wasn't going to authorize this gross breach of trust.  There was no excuse for torture.

"Drop down, Raphie."

I snarled, shifting my feet as much as I could, delighted when my heel connected with his knee.  His hiss of surprise was music to my ears, and I was just patting myself on the back mentally when he rolled my tail through his fingers again.

With the gag halved now, we both heard and understood my soft moan.  I was disgusted at myself, even if I couldn't help it.  Our tails were sensitive; it was always arousing for it to be touched.  Donnie was cheating, and I _knew_ he knew that.  I was already half-hard from the earlier attention, and there was no way to tell him it wasn't because I liked it.

The first tears collected at the edges of my eyes, and I held my breath to try to ease them back onto my eyeballs.

"Drop down, Raphie."  His voice was sharper this time, definitely a command.  He stroked my slit, cupping the slight bulge and massaging my dick from the outside.

I resisted as long as I could; somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was inevitable, but he was damn well gonna have to work for it.  He cooed and smiled up at me with painful adoration, petting and rubbing.  He was forcing me to participate, to show consent in some twisted way.

I sobbed in frustration when my dick finally slid into his waiting, bloody hands.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael is surprised when Donatello acts on their growing feelings for each other... in terrifying ways.

His look of pure adoration had me pulling at the chains around my arms so I wouldn't sag down the wall.  I tried to twitch and twist out of his grasp, but my hips had zero leeway.  He guessed at what I was doing, unfortunately, and his grip tightened at the base of my dick.  I winced as I looked away; the flakes of my own dried blood on his fingers were uncomfortable.  I had no idea how to tell him _that,_ either.

Seconds later, I realized I didn't need to as one of his hands trailed up my body, crisscrossing the streaks and reaching for the wound in my shoulder.  Goddamnit.  He'd begun to read minds or he'd really, _really_ thought this through.  Down to scaryass details.

"Deep breath, Raphie."

I gasped as I felt him tear at the dried flap of skin, a revolted shiver shaking my body as his finger slid into the wound.  He broke the minor healing it'd already begun, and I was horrified to see another rush of blood drip down his wrist.

No no no _no no-_ he wasn't going to use that as _lube._

I felt his fingers retreat, then reappear on the head of my dick.

Oh fuck, he probably was.

I squeezed my eyes shut, whimpering, but immediately opened them when I was reminded once again that no sight only heightened the feel of his hands.  The fingers that were now stroking me, so gently, from base to tip.  When I felt the slickness rubbed over my head I choked, biting into the cloth through my teeth.

"Sorry, Raphie," he murmured, trailing his hands back down toward my plastron. "There.  I'm finished."  He trailed off as he stood, staring at me with stark admiration and lust.  His breathing was loud, even to me.  "You're finished.  Amazing.  I am no artist, but you, Raphie..."

I jerked as he closed the distance between us, wrapping his arms around me.  He was hugging me, like he did when he was chased into my room by nightmares or Mikey's teasing.  His face nuzzled against my cheek, our plastrons clinking, his arms warm and welcome after the horror of a moment ago.

Hot and cold.  I couldn't take this back-and-forth pleasure and revulsion.  It was killing my sanity and my confidence- what few shreds of them I had left.

"You're my god," he whispered against my cheek, and I started again in surprise.  He just clung to me tighter as he continued.  "You always have been, since we were children.  Sometimes I wish I could be more like you- able to speak my mind so the others understand.  Able to vent my emotions physically.  But I know it wouldn't work if we were both the same."  He stepped back, his hands gently curled around my neck as he smiled at me.  "Our differences is what makes us work, Raphie.  They make you unique and special, even in our insular world."

I nearly sobbed again, confused and frustrated beyond belief.  Words I'd always wanted to hear.  Touches and attention I'd wanted for years.   But it was tainted by these chains, my own blood and our broken trust.  How would I be able to look at him again after this?  How would I be able to stand his hand on me after I'd felt it slicked with my body's fluids?  He had betrayed the most important rule of our family, and yet-

"I want you, Raphie," he said, his husky voice cutting through my thoughts.

"Donneth, _noa,_ " I pleaded weakly, shaking my head.

I don't know why I even said anything; he hadn't listened to me before, and he didn't listen to me now as he melded his body against mine again.  I felt his thigh slide up and rub mine, and something stiff rubbed against my erection as he grinded against me suggestively.  I swallowed forcefully when I realized his own dick was out, hard and flushed between us, meeting mine with his increasingly frantic movements.

"Will you stop worrying," he whispered, his shy smile widening as he kissed along my jawline.  "I told you, I've prepared everything.  Thought of everything beforehand."  He pressed his mouth against my cheek, then whispered, "I'm already ready for you, Raphie.  You just have to enjoy."

"Wath- Wath-," I tried to ask, biting irritably at the mask.  I sighed in relief as he loosened the knot, the red band fluttering away.  I worked my mouth immediately, trying to coat my dry tongue with saliva.

"Wh-Whaddya mean, 'ready'?" I croaked, swallowing hard.  I yelped as he felt him shift, his ass tightly pressing down on the head of my dick.  "N-No, Donnie, don't do th-,"

"I- I want you, Raphie," he whispered brokenly, his eyes filled with an strange mix of longing and pain.  "I've needed you for so long I've forgotten how to feel anything else."

"This ain't the way it's supposed to be- be- _Donnie!_ "

Warm. Tight. Slick.  I really didn't want to think about that last fact.  This wasn't _sanitary,_ beyond everything else!

He gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head as he sunk lower.  His fingers clawed into my skin as my hands balled into fists.  Unlike earlier, the small sting of his nails sent bolts of pleasure down my spine, spiking into my wiggling tail.  

He moaned once, softly, and my eyes darted to his face, which was slack with pleasure.  I felt myself flush, embarrassed of this forced lust tingling on my skin; terrified that a small part of me loved seeing his expression.  I could _not_ enjoy this. I couldn't let him win.

That damnable heat went lower and lower, until with a small gasp he settled against me.  My traitorous dick was fully buried in him, smearing filth and gore on his insides, and he looked so _happy._   I tried to say something, my mouth working tiredly, but no sound came out.  I felt overwhelmed and tired, scared and fried to a crisp.  Speaking was useless; he'd gone too far and dragged me with him.

Then he _moved,_ and we both groaned at the delicious contact.

"Raph~ie," he sighed, burying his face against my neck.  "I need you so badly."

"C-Can ya at least untie me?" I begged, snapping my arms forward, the chains clanging discordantly.

"No," he whispered sadly.  "You're still in denial."

"Fuck," I muttered, biting my lower lip as I looked away.

"Of course," he purred against my skin.  I felt his muscles coil and bunch as he raised himself, then slammed down with considerable force.  I lost my breath in a rush of pleasure.

"N-Not wha' I m-meant an' ya _know_ it!"

He gave one of those soft, weird giggles again, hugging me tighter as he repeated the action.  I stared up at the ceiling, turning away from the sheer joy lighting his eyes.   _Not like this,_ I kept repeating to myself.   _Gods, not like this._

But my dick stayed hard, my body shivered, my throat let gasps and churrs escape as he rocked against me.  I tried to ignore the wet, slick sounds, knowing if I thought on it too hard I'd start gagging again.  I just wanted this to be over so I could curl up in a corner to hide my face in shame.

Heat began dancing across my skin, a familiar knot forming in my stomach.  While I hated it, hated the very thought of it being there, it meant it would be done soon.  Hopefully.

Donnie moaned my name again, and the knot tightened.

"S-So good," he gasped, his hands reaching up to anchor around my neck.  I started when I felt his mouth press to mine urgently, biting along my lip to demand access.  My instincts opened my mouth against my will, my tongue responding to his insistent probing.  I groaned in disgust as I tasted blood, shaking my head to try to break the embrace, but he held me firmly in place.  My hands hung uselessly to the sides as he ravished me, inside and out, taking his pleasure and forcing mine.

I choked breathlessly when he finally pulled back, his hands still digging into my skin as he bucked and thrust anxiously.

"I've m-made you mine," he gasped with the widest grin I'd ever seen him wear.  "N-Now, paint m-me, Raphie.  Paint me inside with everyth-thing that is you, glorious you."

I slurred curses as I finally let the last of my resistance go.  My shell banged against the wall as I used what little slack I had to thrust up as he came down, a fierce meeting of flesh that set off sparks in my vision, my dick throbbing pleasurably as I emptied myself into him.

I remember his exultant cry just before everything went black.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael is surprised when Donatello acts on their growing feelings for each other... in terrifying ways.

I felt a nagging at my brain, some feeling that was trying to nudge me awake.  I was conscious enough to realize I didn't want to wake up, but the more I thought about that, the more I slipped out of sleep.

Blearily I opened my eyes, trying to blink back my mental fog.  I was upset, but I didn't quite remember why.  I woke up like that often enough that I didn't think anything of it.

Familiar cracks on the ceiling greeted me.  From the low light under the door, I saw long-memorized shadows and shapes of my room.  Even better, a comfortable weight rested against my side, and I smiled as I listened to Donnie's soft snuffles.

Donnie.

Blood.

_Pain._

I choked on my next breath, my body tensing as I prepared to flee then paused.

Everything seemed so normal.  So _in place_ and far removed from that nightmare.  It was quiet in the early morning, if the clock was right- Leo probably wasn't even up yet.  Donnie's face was peaceful and admittedly adorable as he nuzzled my chest in his sleep.  I raised the blanket and glanced down at our tangled bodies- no blood, no gore, no-

Were those bruises on my thighs?

Panic surged again, and I delicately and oh-so-slowly rolled away from Donnie and out of bed.  Quick checks of my shoulder and arm found tidy bandages taped to my skin.  I felt my breathing become shallow and harsh, and I covered my mouth with a hand to muffle myself.  I was vaguely aware I was hyperventilating, but I didn't know how to stop it.

Donnie mumbled sleepily, and all other thoughts fled my mind.  Frantically I pulled a nearby drawer open, scrambling for something, _anything._   I winced as my hands explored, my bruised wrists sending dull aches up my arms.

My fingers closed around a thick wad of wires, and I nearly sobbed in relief.  It was leftover fishing line from one of Mikey's godawful pranks.  I ignored the tantalizing memories of Leo's outraged face as I dug out the corded circle, unthreading it easily and pulling a long bit to work with.

Fortunately, Donnie was like me in that he was hard to wake, at least with gentle touches or words.  We both needed a good, hard shake or yelling to get our eyes open.  I worked quickly, first on his wrists, then his ankles, trying to not fumble as I heard him yawn.  When I finished, I scrambled back to the edge of the wall, gripping the bricks behind me as they scraped against my shell.  I could still see his face, so placid and relaxed.  As if last night hadn't happened.

It took another several minutes for his eyes to flicker open.  His tired smile wavered when his arms twitched, then arched a brow at me as he chuckled.

"S'not funny," I snapped.

"I appreciate the returned gesture," he yawned as he clumsily sat up, "but I'm not into bondage, really."

"No?!" I nearly shrieked, shaking as I pointed at my discoloured wrists.  "Coulda fooled me last-,"

"Quieter, Raphie."

"-last night," I finished in a hiss.  " _What the fuck_ was that?  How- How dare you- you-,"  I wrapped my arms around me, hugging myself tightly as I sunk further between the dresser and the wall.

"I made you mine, Raphie," he replied wearily, though his smile was brighter.  "And you made me yours.  You wouldn't make any advances, so I was forced to make the first move.  Not that I minded, but you were rather frustrating."

"And that was your idea of a first move?!" I snarled, gesturing wildly.  "Ya had to go all _'Psycho'_ on me? We couldn't've, y'know, like, _talked_ instead of you r-raping me?!"

Something in his eyes flickered, and my heart responded with a faster thumping in my chest.  "I needed that last night, Raphie, and so did you."

" _No!_ "  He glared at me, and I lowered my voice again.  I was going to drive my point home through his insanity if it took all day.  "I didn't want it.  Not like _that._   That was disgusting, revolting, and-,"

He nodded, cutting me off with his amused smile.  "I know.  You have preset reactions to certain situations, and for that I'm sorry.  The fear will fade soon, considering last night was special, and probably won't be repeated-,"

"Don't you fucking _ever_ do that to me again," I hissed, my hands balling into fists at my side. "Or I will kill you the second I'm free."

"Duly noted," he nodded seriously.  "Never again without your permission."

"Ya don't know the meanin' of the word!"  I shrank as he scooted to the edge of the bed.  "I didn't give ya any last night, an' ya went ahead anyway! You manipulated my body to make it do what ya wanted, but I didn't want it!"

He wiggled his bound feet to the floor, then stood on them, swaying slightly.  I bit back a curse as my hand twitched, nearly reaching out to steady him. 

"You _did_ want last night."  His brown eyes were dark and narrowed as he hobbled toward me.

"No," I whispered, my stomach lurching as my mind rewound through memories.  "Gods, Donnie, what sick fuck would want blood-,"

"You did want it!"  I saw the first crack in his composure, and it filled me with both dread and sympathy.  "You want me, Raphie. Stop denying it; your pretenses are becoming tiring.  Statistically, you run to me in battle 23% more often than our brothers, regardless of the presented or absent danger.  Half of your time spent one on one with a brother is with me.  You support my arguments faster than Leo, and many more of my theories than the others.  You've told me to sneak into your room for any reason, waking hours or not.  You're the only one who's given and returned physical affection, and freely shared emotional duress with.  You're-,"

I swallowed hard as he leaned against me, pinning me between him and the wall.  I gripped his shoulders to keep him from advancing further.

"You're the only person who turns my thoughts so primal I'm ashamed of them," he whispered, and I couldn't help but shiver at the stark emotion in his soft words.  "You have to feel the same, Raphie.  You _have_ to."

"I- I do," I croaked, shaking him angrily when he grinned up at me.  "But goddamnit, Donnie, you ain't listenin'.  Ya took my choice away from me.  Ya _forced_ me.  I don't- Ya made me think twice about trustin' you ever again.  That hurts worse than anythin'."

"That will come, in time," he nodded, reaching up between us to stroke my cheek.  "I'm so sorry, Raphie, but it's done now.  You will forever wear my mark, and I yours.  We are bonded now, by blood, deed, and word."

My eyes grew hooded, leaning into his touch- then froze.  "How-,"

He wrapped his arms around my neck and smiled coyly.  "I will teach you to tie better knots this weekend, Raphie.  But you should be ashamed."

I shuddered as his hands slid over my skin, the touch soft and gentle, contrasting with brutal memories.  I was a fucking masochist to still want his hands on me. 

"An'- An' what about the fact that ya raped me?" I gasped.  His eyes snapped again, and I bit my lip painfully to distract me from falling too deeply into them.

"Raphie," he sighed, nuzzling his nose under my chin, "you will understand, in time.  I promise you."

"Ya mean, yer gonna _brainwash_ me into believin' what you say," I snarled, shoving him away roughly.

"You'll understand the truth soon enough," Donnie replied with a serene smile.  Completely unperturbed by my threats, he slid back against me and twined his fingers around the back of my neck.  "Because it's simple, Raphie.  I love you.  And you love me."

I huffed in frustration, leaning my head back against the wall and staring at the ceiling.  He began trailing kisses along my collarbone, careful to avoid the bandage as he worked his way up my throat.

And goddamnit, I _couldn't_ make him stop.  The words wouldn't come, my hands wouldn't push him back again.  In fact, they just gripped his arms tighter to keep him in place.

Eventually he tilted my face down, and his kiss was soft and warm, the complete opposite of last night.  My initial fear was being wrapped in layers of desires and wants, only a dull ache now as he moaned into my mouth.

And it terrified me to wonder...

...Maybe _I_ was insane, too.


End file.
